


Treble Clef and Freckles

by martinfreemanwearsjumpers



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: A little, And Michael plays the piano pretty, Fluff, Gavin owns a music store, M/M, SO FLUFFY, and Ray works with Gavin, and they make some stupid bets, but he plays it cool, but that's okay, it's ooc, michael really likes gav, music shop!AU, or something, which is cool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinfreemanwearsjumpers/pseuds/martinfreemanwearsjumpers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin Free has never been prouder of anything in the world the way he is about his music shop on some dinky NYC street corner.</p><p>And his life is going pretty well--a stable business, a kickass best friend (and colleague), and even the possibility of a writing gig.</p><p>So who would have imagined it could get better just because some doofus played the piano?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling Slowly

**Author's Note:**

> In which I write a fic in order to relieve stress (and alleviate writer's block) and will continue to do so until the stress (and/or block) goes away (or the story comes to an end).
> 
> Please excuse any errors, the fic is unbetaed and written in my spare time so it may or may not have actually been edited correctly. Also, it may seem super rushed but that's okay maybe I can write in some of the scenes later. Or something.
> 
> Okay, enough excuses. Hope you enjoy!

The little music shop was his favorite thing in the world, his pride and joy, the one thing he truly believed in.

Gavin Free had spent all of the money his parents had given him when he came to New York City, and somehow, he couldn't see himself spending the cash on anything other than the store.

His parents were proud of him for doing what he believed in, and they couldn't say they were surprised--their son had been talking about opening a music shop since he was young.

The shop was a success, bringing in enough revenue for Gavin to survive, and made enough to pay his landlord, Geoff (not that he minded if the payments came late, honestly.  The bearded man had quite the soft spot for the Brit), rent for the apartment above the shop.

He loved all of his customers, obviously, especially the ones who sat at the pianos and guitars and drum sets and fiddled for a bit, the ones who shut their eyes and let their fingers take them away.  

His colleague who had helped him in the shop (who lived in the apartment next to the store), Ray, was often like that when the customers left for the night.

He and Ray would sit in the back room, playing Gavin's personal vinyl collection, guitars in hand, trying (and often succeeding) to recreate the melodies.

He had been sorting through a few jumbled CDs when a man his age with red curls tucked under a black beanie entered the store.  Freckles dotted his nose, and his eyes were intense, but soft--throwing Gavin off a bit.

"Hello, can I help you with anything?" Gavin asked with his usual perky smile.

"Nice accent," the man commented with a cheeky grin.  "And sure.  Do you have any pianos I can play?"

Gavin nodded.

"There's some in the back," he replied, watching the man walk in the direction he was pointing.  "The baby grand's the best.  She plays like a beauty."

The redhead smiled and offered a thumbs up before disappearing from Gavin's sight.

The Brit quickly returned to his sorting, humming quietly while he worked.

"Hey, Gavin, did you send that guy back to play Georgia?"

Gavin looked up and chuckled at Ray's question.

"Ray, I told you, we can't name the merchandise.  And yes, I sent him back there."

"Georgia and I are going to be very happy together one day," Ray argued in mock offense.  "He's good, though."

"Really?" Gavin asked, only half-interested, seeing as how he was in the middle of a semi-important job.

"Seriously.  He seems a bit rusty, but his fingers move fast.  He's fiddling with Beethoven right now.  You should check him out in a little."

Gavin looked up to see Ray holding a CD in his face.

OK Go.

"Alright, alright, I'll head back there now.  Just finish sorting these for me."

"Yes, sir, Gavino."

Gavin slipped a final CD case onto the shelf and headed to the back of the shop where the pianos were located.

And true to Ray's word, the freckled man was playing Beethoven's Fifth like it was Hot Cross Buns.  He stumbled at a few parts, Gavin could hear him mumbling curses, but altogether he was great.  Gavin might have even said the stranger was better than himself, had he not had so much pride.

When the man's fingers began to slow, Gavin clapped quietly.

The man turned around, the blush on his face bringing out the freckles more than before.

"That was beautiful," Gavin said with a shrug.

"It sucked. I need to work on the main theme."

Gavin shrugged, moving closer to the man, but turned to look at the bookshelf next to it.

"How long have you been playing?" the shop owner asked, pulling a book off of the shelf and flipping through the pages.  

"Since I was eleven, but it's been a few years."

"Why did you start again?"

"I moved into the apartment across the street, I'm here for work.  I saw this place and figured it was worth a shot."

"I see," Gavin said, pushing the book back into the shelf and pulling one whose spine read Once.  "Have you ever heard this one?"

He flipped to a page and placed the sheet music in front of the man.  

"Cristin Milioti, right?  I saw it with my mom a few months ago when I visited."

"Yeah, it's beautiful.  Do you mind?"

The man shook his head, staring at the page for a moment before placing his fingers in the correct position.

His fingers moved gently across the keys, filling the room with melody while Gavin hummed where the singing part began.

The shop owner stood up, pulling a guitar into his arms from a nearby rack and beginning to strum at the strings.

The song drew to an end and the man had a grin on his face that matched Gavin's.

"That was top!"

The pianist chuckled, his head shaking.  "What does that even mean?"

"It was really good," someone explained from behind them.  Gavin turned around to see Ray, with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter, a smirk tugging at his lips.  "That's what 'top' means in Britainese."

The stranger nodded in understanding before closing the book and handing it to Gavin.

"Thanks for the jam sesh, man," he said, standing up.  "Maybe we could do that again."

And with that, Gavin and Ray watched as he began to leave the back room.

Ray shrugged, but the shop owner stood, chasing after the man.  

He was halfway to the door when Gavin shouted, "I was born with it!"

The man turned around, his hands in his pockets.

"What?"

Gavin continued walking, closing the space between them.

"My accent, I mean.  I was born with it."

"Oh."

"I'm Gavin Free," he offered, sticking his hand out in front of him.

"Michael Jones," the freckled man replied, shaking the hand offered.  

"You should definitely come back and play for us again sometime," Gavin added before pulling his hand away.

Michael shrugged, moving his hand back into his pocket.  "Sure."

-

Gavin sat behind the register, leaning on his elbows.  He watched some regulars shuffling around through the stacks of sheet music and the records along the left wall.  His mind had been occupied by the man who had waltzed in and played a perfect solo three days ago.  A man who hadn't returned, despite Gavin's constant hopes.

"Hey," a voice interrupted the words rushing through his mind.  "Is Freckles still on your mind?"

He looked up to see Ray with a smirk on his face.

"Freckles?" Gavin chuckled.

"Yeah, the dude who played Once with you.  The one you seem to be super infatuated with?"

"I'm not infatuated."

"I know, idiot, you're super infatuated."

"Ray," Gavin warned.

"Vav," Ray laughed.  "I'm only kidding.  I know we love finding new musicians.  And I know we're looking for a new worker, so maybe you should ask him."

A few school children came in holding their mother's arms, searching for something they needed for music class, both of the workers' heads turning.

"Hey, can I help you with anything?" Ray asked, a large grin on his face as he approached them, leaving Gavin behind.

The mother's face lit up and she began to explain what her kids needed, while the children looked around in awe.

As Ray and the family disappeared into the rest of the store, Gavin was tasked with taking care of the customer with a stack of CDs in hand in front of him.

Gavin began to scan each one with a smile.

"So did you find everything you needed?"

-

The day was near its end with really only five minutes left before they could close up, Ray and Gavin already done sweeping up and sorting out the sheet music that had grown disheveled.  

They leaned back in their chairs at the register, sighing.

"We should really get another worker, man."

"I know.  Especially if we plan on expanding," Gavin groaned, leaning his head in his hands.

Their heads turned up when they heard the door open.

"Last customer of the day, huh?" the voice spoke as its owner approached them, and Gavin's mouth hung open.

"You okay, Gavin?" the freckled man in front of him asked with a smirk on his face.

"Michael.  You came back?"

"I realized that it's a Friday night in New York City, and I have no friends."

Ray chuckled while Gavin sat with a smirk.

"Well, we're about to close up.  We're gonna grab some burgers and then come back to write some stuff."

"We're writing tonight?  I thought it was game night?"

"Nah, it's a writing night.  Joel wants to see what new material we have."

Gavin chuckled, pulling his coat on as Ray did.

"Well?  Are you coming or not?" the Brit asked Michael.  "Leave your things on the counter and let's go."

-

"It's definitely a C," Ray muttered.  "Say something I'm giving up--"

"It's a B minor.  I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this," Michael chuckled.

"Bloody..." Gavin muttered, playing with Michael's idea.

"Shouldn't you be writing?  And why don't you just look up the chords?" the red head asked.

Gavin and Ray looked at him, appalled at the thought.

"It's like a game, Michael.  Whoever figures out the most chords gets to pick a punishment for the other.  I suppose you're off the hook, though."

Ray shrugged.  "Yeah, that's cool."

"You don't think I can figure out more chords than you?" Michael scoffed, nudging the Brit next to him.

Gavin and Ray raised their eyebrows.

"Fine, you're on."

The shop owner smiled, his eyes flicking up to gaze at Michael's freckled cheeks.  

He just looked a lot different in the dimmer light of the back room.  Good different.

Wait.  What?

-

"Gavin got eleven, I got thirteen, and Michael got sixteen.  He won."

"I can't believe it," Gavin muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands.  He was impressed with the red head.  Really impressed.

"Told you idiots I could do it.  So what's next?"

"Pick a punishment, I guess.  For both of us," Ray muttered, rubbing his neck.

"Right," Michael sighed, nodding.  "How about another competition?"

Gavin and his associate looked up, grinning.

"Like?"

"I was thinking that on Monday, when the shop opens, you all have to get as many numbers as possible."

"From?" Ray asked.

"From customers.  Like, people interested in dating you," Michael explained.

"Right.  And what do we win?" Gavin wondered.

"That's your call."

Ray turned to Gavin with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Winner gets to pick which number the loser calls," the Puerto Rican offered.

"Deal."

"Anyway, we should probably get writing..."

-

Gavin dressed in his best jumper over a button-up shirt, his hair half-pressed down in a failed attempt to tame it.  He had to look more presentable than usual if he was going to get numbers from New York City girls...or boys.

When he walked down to the shop, he saw that Ray had a very similar idea, dressed in a white shirt rolled up to his elbows with a bright red tie, the tip of a rose attached to his shirt pocket.  Why didn't he think of a rose?!

Gavin grinned nodding at his shoes.

"Nice dress shoes.  And slacks," the shop owner commented, walking behind the counter.

"Thanks, you too," Ray grinned, placing two styrofoam bowls at the registers.  "And I brought these."

Gavin chuckled, reaching under the registers for two pieces of paper and a marker.

"Ready to look douchier than we ever have?"

Ray shrugged, writing "I'm taking numbers."

"It's a punishment," Gavin sighed, taking the marker from Ray and writing " Win a date with the shop owner? ;)"

They took a deep breath, standing in front of the door, and turned the CLOSED sign to OPEN.

"Good luck, lad," Gavin murmured.  

"And you, friend."

-

By the end of the day, Michael walked into the store while they were counting.

"Hey, guys.  How'd it go?"

Neither man looked up, counting carefully.

"Okay, that's co--"

"Twenty-three!" Gavin shouted, waving the scraps of paper in the air.

Ray's brows furrowed as his eyes flicked between pieces of paper.

"Hah!  Twenty-nine!  Fuck you, England!"

Michael chuckled, moving to the spot where the boys had placed their styrofoam bowls.  He picked up a pen and scribbled his own number down, slipping it into his pocket.

Gavin groaned, but his smile didn't leave his face as he watched his best friend jump around the shop towards the back room.

Still, he was pretty sure he liked Michael, and now he'd be expected to make a date with someone he didn't even know.

"Seems like Ray gets to pick yours, huh, Gav?"

Michael grinned, folding the paper in his pocket.

"I suppose," Gavin shrugged.  "Will you be, uh, sticking around tonight?"

Michael grinned, pulling the piece of paper out of his pocket and shifting it between his fingers, trying to avoid the fact that they were shaking.

Gavin looked down at the other boy's hands, curious.

"I can't I have a work thing.  But maybe tomorrow."

"Oh, okay,"  the shop owner nodded slowly, his eyes moving from Michael's hand to his freckles.  Gosh, he loved freckles.

"Yeah, I should get going now," Michael said with a smile, nodding at Ray who had composed himself and came back to the main room.

"Oh, cool, dude.  See you tomorrow."

"Sure," Michael shrugged.  "Which one was yours, Gav?"

Gavin pointed at the bowl containing twenty-three slips of paper.

Michael smiled, dropping the piece of paper in his hand into the bowl, shaking it.  "I'll take a crack at it."

Before anyone could comment, he turned around, leaving the shop with an awkward wave.

Gavin and Ray turned to each other in shock, alternating between staring at the door and Gavin's bowl.

"Bloody hell."

"Dude, guess that makes it twenty-four."

-

Gavin's eyes shifted between Ray and the bowl in front of him.

"Dude, I know this was the deal, but we don't have to do this.  We can just say someone gave you a fake number or something."

"Why wouldn't I go through with this?" Gavin asked, his eyes frozen on the guitar across the room.

"Because of Michael?"

"Michael.  So what?"

"Dude, it's obvious that you might have feelings for Michael, and the dude seems to like you too.  It would probably be--"

"Just pick a fucking number!"

Ray shoved his hand into the bowl, grabbing a slip of paper between his fingers.

"There, asshole."

Gavin rolled his eyes, taking his phone in his hand as he dialed the number.

(212) 555-7243.

The Brit felt his heart race in his chest as he heard the dial tone ringing through his head.

"Hey, you've reached Michael Jones.  If this is about work, leave your name and number, and I'll call you back as soon as possible."

Gavin turned to Ray, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

"What?"

A loud beep sang in the shop owner's ear, and he recalled what he was doing.

"H-hi, Michael.  I just wanted to ask if you were free this, uh, weekend.  We could go out, I mean, not with Ray.  We could, um, I don't know.  Call me back when you get the chance.  Oh, and you won."


	2. How Lovely to Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin and Michael go on a date and it's fluffy and ooc buuuut
> 
> They're really adorable so I just rolled with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of the works that are not proofread. This one should probably be okay? Thanks for reading!

Michael walked into the music store the next morning with two cups of coffee in hand.

He was going to go out with Gavin.

Gavin who ran a music shop and played the guitar like a pro and sang pretty.  Not to mention that accent.

God, when did he become a twelve year old girl?

He looked up to see Gavin smiling at the counter, a hand frozen in a wave.

"Hi, Michael!"

He had to take a deep breath before approaching the shop owner, placing the cup of coffee in front of him.

"Morning, Gavin."

"You don't usually come in here in the morning.  Is this for me?"

Michael shrugged.

"If you want it.  And I figured that maybe we should talk."

Gavin smirked, taking the warm cup in his hands.

"Thanks, the city is bloody freezing in November."

"Yeah, I know.  I figured I could warm you up," Michael shrugged.  "In exchange for...?"

"How about dinner?" the Englishman offered shyly.

"Sounds fantastic," Michael said with a smirk, leaning on the counter as he took a sip of his coffee.  "So I'll pick you up at six?"

Gavin blushed.

"Bloody hell, my first date in New York City."

"And you've been living here for how long?" Michael teased.

The shop owner smirked, closing a hand lightly around Michael's.

"Thanks a lot, idiot."

Gavin's eyes glanced over the freckles peppering the redhead's cheeks and nose.

"I, uh, guess I'll see you later, then."

They wore matching smiles as Ray walked into the shop.

"Losers," he muttered with his own grin.

Michael squeezed the other man's hand with a chuckle.

"I'll see you."

The redhead smiled, pulling away towards the door.

Ray walked towards his friend with a poke.

"He got you coffee?"

Gavin nodded, still slightly awestruck at his encounter.

The Puerto Rican hopped behind the counter and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Got yourself a keeper."

-

Michael groaned, listening as his boss chewed him out for being a little loud when he worked.  It wasn't his fault that the clients were impatient and watching everything he did.

As he apologized and walked out of his boss's office, his friend Miles started walking beside him.

"Hey, Michael.  What was up with that?"

"Sorola was giving me crap about earlier."

"Oh, about how your client was being a pisshead?"

"Yeah, except the client said I was instead.  Who complains about their electrician?"

Miles shrugged.

"Sorry, man.  On the upside, you're hanging out with that British guy tonight, right?"

"Yeah.  The owner of Treble Clef."

"Creative name, huh?" Miles joked as they clocked out, putting their coats on.  

"That's for sure," the redhead chuckled with a shake of his head.  "But it should be fun, I think."

"Hey, man.  Everyone's gotta have a little break.  You've been working your ass off."

Michael shrugged as they began their walk down the stairs to .

"You going out with Arryn tonight?"

"Actually, I'm just gonna have a game night with Kerry.  Arryn's out of town until after Thanksgiving."

"Ahh, I see.  Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then," Michael said as they reached the spot where they separated every day.  

"Sure.  Good luck, tonight.  I expect to hear all about it in the morning."

"Will do, man."

And with that Miles turned to the right to catch his train to the other side of the city, while Michael caught his.

-

Michael dashed through his apartment, changing into a clean pair of jeans after getting out of the shower, and finding his nicest sneakers that had been buried at the bottom of a moving box.  He really should have finished unpacking by now…

His cell phone rang, and he smiled as a picture of Gavin and him appeared on the screen from when they had been writing a few weeks before.

He almost dived to grab the phone and answer, smiling when he heard a British idiot’s voice come through.

“Hi, Michael!  Almost ready for our little, uh, thing?”

The redhead chuckled into the phone, “You can call it a date, loser.”

“Our bloody date, then, you wanker.  Ray and I are going to close up shop in about twenty minutes."

“I know that, Gav.  I’ve been there for closing almost everyday for the last month.”

Michael attempted to select a button down shirt before remembering they were just going out for some Chinese food.

“Right, well I’ve got a customer, but I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

He tossed the shirts into the hamper before settling on what was a video game shirt and a nice hoodie, realizing he was already a few minutes late.  Michael grabbed his keys and his phone, shoving them into his pocket, taking the rose that laid beside them on the table next to the door, before jogging out of his apartment building and into the music shop across the street.

Unlocked, as it always was around this time, Michael stumbled in to find Gavin and Ray chatting at the register, the Brit leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face as he turned to see the redhead at the door.

“H-hi, sorry I’m late.”

“No, that’s alright, Michael, we just closed up.  Last customer just left.”

Michael walked timidly toward the object of his affections for the evening, offering the rose that looked slightly crooked.

“You ready?”

Gavin smirked, standing up and brushing off his beige henley, straightening his navy blue cardigan.  

“Sure.  So let's get some dinner."

-

They sat in the Chinese restaurant, smiling as Gavin threatened to toss his noodles in Michael's hair.

"You can't do that in public, loser!"

"I totally would!"

"So do it!" Michael dared, watching as Gavin's spoonful of noodles withdrew from beside his head. "That's what I thought!"

Gavin chuckled loudly, but they grew silent when they realized the entire restaurant was staring at them, an angry looking server glaring at their happiness.

"Sorry," Gavin muttered before they giggled softly together.

Michael continued to scarf down his dumplings and soda until a waiter passed by with fortune cookies and a check.  Gavin paid wordlessly, but with a small smile.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

The question was insane.  Michael should have said no, ended their date there because it was only twenty degrees outside, but he smiled and nodded, leaving their table and pulling their coats on.

They turned a busy street corner, laughing over the reactions of all of the people inside.

"I would hate to be a waiter in this city.  The people here can be so bloody rude."

Michael grinned.  "Yeah, you've got a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, I know. I still can't believe it sometimes.  It's been my dream since I was a little lad."

"I wanted to play video games for a living once upon a time, but I'm glad your thing worked out."

Gavin laughed, nudging Michael playfully, their hands brushing against each other, causing them both to freeze.

Faced with the major decision that could make or break their date, Michael was the first to exhale and choose what was going to happen next.

He entwined his fingers with Gavin, squeezing lightly so that the other man would look up and meet his eyes so he could see his reaction.

And Gavin's face was flushed with joy, his entire visage lit up with a smile, his eyes glimmering in a way that Michael thought only happened in movies.

"You know, you could work at the shop too.  It would be good."

Michael shrugged.  

"I don't know.  I get why you love it, but I need to be working with my hands, you know?"

"No, I get it.  I get bored sometimes too, that's why Ray and I came up with dorky little games to play.  And we write and do what we love, and that's what keeps me going.  And we're thinking of expanding."

Michael laughed.  "You're ambitious, Gav.  I like that."

"I hope that's not the only thing you like about me," he replied snidely and with a wink.

"You are such a loser," the red head groaned, gripping the Brit's hand a little tighter.  "And I like that, too."

-

As they approached their street, Gavin offered Michael to come up.

"Wow, pretty fast for the first date, huh, Gav?"  Michael teased.

"Oh, you minge.  I meant for video games.  I have a few first person shooters if you want.  I would play them whether you were there or not."

"Man, you really know how to make a boy feel special," the red head joked, but he agreed finally.

They ran up the stairs, kicked off their shoes, and sat on the sofa, Gavin handing him the controller and turning the TV on.

"Halo 3 is okay, right?"

"Yeah, that's cool."

They talked about books for awhile after Michael brought up a movie that was based on one.  

After picking a map, Gavin and Michael were racing to find the other and swiftly put a bullet in the other's head.

Gavin yelped every time he was killed from behind, and Michael shouted at the television whenever his gun failed to shoot the Brit from across the map, but they would be lying if they said it wasn't amazing.  

Michael had been slightly worried that, without Ray, he and Gavin would have nothing to talk about, but somehow, it didn't matter.  It was a dance, and they were killing it.

After Gavin had given up, Michael suggested they pop a movie in, simply because he wasn't in the mood to walk across the street to his apartment just yet (or was it more that Gavin's apartment was warmer and more friendly than his own?).

Halfway through Shaun of the Dead, Michael had fallen asleep against Gavin's shoulder, the Brit taking a moment to tug on the blanket laid on the back of the couch to warm them as he let himself sleep.

-

Michael woke up with his head against someone's chest, a warm arm stretched over his body, a gentle light slipping through the window, a menu screen for the movie last night still playing.  

He tried to turn around to see who laid behind him, but the person moved before he could, almost throwing him off the couch.

"Bloody hell, sorry love," his companion yawned, catching the electrician before he could hit the hardwood.

"You sound super British when you wake up," Michael muttered, sitting up, a hand still in contact with the sleepy man's shoulder.  

"I am super British, you minge," he sighed, stretching as he lifted himself off the couch.

Michael checked his phone to find three texts from Miles asking where he was and how the date went and if he was coming in.  "Yeah, I'm actually a little late.  Maybe I can come see you for lunch?"

Gavin smiled, nodding sleepily, beginning to walk the other man to the door.

"I'll text you, but I'll come here at, like, two?" Michael offered, careful not to fall down the stairs.

As they reached the door leading outside of the shop, Gavin tugged on the other man's sleeve before he could leave.

"Michael, I had a really good time last night," Gavin said quietly when he turned around.  

The red head smiled, leaning closer to the Brit.

"Me too.  That's why we'll do it again soon, okay?"

Gavin nodded.  "Okay, you can go."

Michael leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the Englishman's lips before pulling away.

"Was that okay?"

The Brit smiled.  "Definitely okay."

"Good," Michael grinned.  "I'll see you at two."

Gavin only nodded, still slightly speechless, as the other man looked both ways before jogging across the street with a wave.

"Man, that was cool," a voice muttered from behind him, a hand clasping on his shoulder.

"You saw that?" Gavin asked, turning his head slightly and feeling a blush on his cheeks.

"Yeah, come on, let's head inside.  We have to open in ten minutes."

"Right.  I still have to change," Gavin sighed, dashing back into the store and up the stairs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you can and let me know what you think!


	3. The Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out Ryan's purpose in the story, and Michael comes over for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the ultra late update, days are long and school takes time.

_The day Gavin moved into his flat above the then empty space that would become his shop, he stopped at the diner a few blocks from his street and ate his first breakfast at the bar, as all the other tables were next to windows, and at least he could talk to the servers (and his food wouldn't get cold)._

_The older man next to him looked at him with a smirk as he placed his order._

_"You a tourist, son?"_

_Gavin shook his head with a shy smirk._

_"No, I just moved in yesterday.  Are you a regular here?"_

_The sixty-odd man chuckled._

_"This is my diner.  My name is James, but everyone here calls me Ryan," he said, offering a hand.  Gavin shook it reluctantly.  "I know, you thought all New Yorkers were rude, but I'm from the South."_

_Gavin nodded in understanding, smiling when his food arrived._

_"So why'd you come here?" he asked as he ran a hand through his silver hair._

_"I'm opening up a music shop next week.  My inventory's coming in on Tuesday."_

_"Ahh, for business.  So you don't know anyone in town?"_

_Gavin shook his head, his mouth full of eggs.  "Just the guy who lives beside where my shop will be."_

_"Well, I'd be happy to show you around if you need it," Ryan offered with a smile, raising a hand when the waitress tried to give Gavin a bill.  "I'll pay for it."_

_That day, Gavin walked around New York City accompanied by a silver-haired man who pointed out lovely little spots where he had spent days with the love of his life, apologizing whenever he thought he was boring his new friend._

_At the end of the day, he was seated in a chair in Gavin's empty shop, furnished only by an old piano._

_"It'll be a good space, you know?" the man spoke with a large smile.  "Maybe I'll visit often."_

_Gavin laughed._

_"I'd really like that.  I just wanted to thank you, Ryan, for helping a dorky little British kid out.  And for breakfast."_

_"It was good to have an entire day with someone to talk to."_

_Gavin looked up and smiled._

_"I can at least offer Sunday mornings," the young man said quietly._

_It seemed meek, but Ryan was pleased to hear he would have the company._

-

"So did you, like, you know?" Ray asked awkwardly during the break at the shop, fiddling with a piece of paper.

Gavin stared at his best friend, groaning.

"He's one of my friends, idiot.  Of course we didn't.  Not on the first date, at least," he replied with a wink.

"It did seem quiet," Ray chuckled.  "But you had fun?"

"Best first date I've ever been on.  It was so easy, you know?"

Gavin's phone went off in his pocket, causing them both to look down.

"When was the last time anyone's ever called you who wasn't me or your mom?" Ray teased.

Gavin stuck his tongue out, pulling his phone into his hand and checking to find Michael had texted him.

_(1:28 pm)_

_Lunch date, right?  Meet you there, prepare sandwiches.  X_

_(1:29 pm)_

_Awesome.  Ray's here too._

"Michael's coming for lunch, wanna close up for an hour?"

"Sure, I'll text Joel since we have some stuff to talk about for the CD."

"Yeah, top. I'll be back in a bit.  Want anything?" he asked, pulling his jacket on.

"Just a hero."

Gavin nodded with a smile, leaving the shop to get to the deli around the corner.

He ordered three sandwiches, a large box of curly fries, approaching the blonde girl at the register with a smile.

"Oh, there's an extra sandwich here.  Got someone special coming around, Gav?"

The Brit beamed.

"I do, Barbara.  You should come around and meet him one day."

The server smiled.

"Alright, will do buddy.  And, uh, tell Ray that Mr. Haywood wants to talk to you guys about writing a jingle or something."

Gavin nodded, paying and then sauntering off in the direction of his store.

When he entered the back room of the store, he saw Michael and Ray talking, the red head's head thrown back in laughter.

"Oh, hey Gav!" Ray exclaimed as Michael gestured to the chair beside him.

He placed the sandwiches on the table, Michael and Ray scrambling for a sandwich.

Michael spoke about their Halo game last night and Gavin bickered until the red head kissed him on the forehead.

"You guys are gross."

And, as if on cue, a tall dark-haired man came stumbled into the shop.

"Speaking of gross," Gavin chuckled before biting into his sandwich.

Michael turned to see the man pull a chair up beside Ray, taking a bite of the shop assistant's sandwich.

"Hey, Joel!  Come on, man!"

Joel smirked, pressing a quick kiss to Ray's forehead.

"Sorry, bud.  Haven't eaten since last night."

"Wait," Michael interrupted.  "You're Joel?"

Gavin laughed.

"Yeah, that's Joel."

"And Joel and Ray are together."

Ray shrugged.

"Sort of together," he teased as Joel pouted.  

"Please, you love me."

Gavin and Michael didn't comment when Ray's cheeks burned red and he muttered something under his breath, to which Joel squeezed his hand on the table for taking the water in front of him.

Gavin smiled.

"Oh, James was telling me how he's recruiting us for a jingle.  And Burnie from Rooster Records is waiting on that demo."

"We've only got three tracks left, and everything's almost done, so we're going to finish those up tomorrow night."

"Speaking of tomorrow night, maybe you could come around sometime before you head home, okay?"

"You do understand that I live over there, right?" Ray teased, pointing at the wall behind which his apartment was located.  "And your place is two train rides away."

"I promise I will pay the fare, Ray.  I have a meeting to go to, but I'll see you later, okay?"

Ray smiled as his boyfriend stood up, pressing a kiss to his lips before he walked out of the shop.

"Finally going to move in for the kill, huh, Ray?" Gavin poked his friend.

They all turned when Michael's phone rang.

"Sorry, man.  It's a text from my coworker, I've gotta get to work."

Gavin nodded. "Go for it.  I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, probably.  Thanks, Gav."

-

"Michael!  Sorry for the last minute call, but Sorola said he's coming in twenty and I can't find what's wrong with this circuit.  I texted you the address."

"It's all good, Miles.  I'm on the subway and I'll be there in two."

"You're a good man, Jones."

-

Gavin locked up the shop early that day to make his way back to the restaurant he had picked up their lunch from.

"Ryan!"

"Gavin, sorry I wasn't here earlier, I heard you bought three sandwiches.  Was Joel over at the shop?" the man waved from a corner booth, taking his glasses off and letting them fall knowing he had them secured on a chain.

"He came, but Michael was over too," Gavin chuckled, sitting across from him.

"Michael, huh?  Finally giving in to how things are going with him?"

Gavin chuckled.

"We did go on our first date last night."

Ryan patted Gavin on the back.  "That's my boy."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Look out for another update (eventually)! And hopefully the rest of the fics will get along soon too!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you can--it helps out bunches!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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